Born: December 8, 1960
Birth Place: Barahona, Dominican Rep
Father: Tucker Lombayo VI (Hatian)
Mother: Melita Vasquez (Peurto Rican/Haitian)
Education: Missionary Grade school/Apprenticeship to a Conjure man
Political Affiliations: Catholic, doesn't really understand Politics.
Death: 1987 Missing, Presumed Dead
He grew up in central DR. his father worked as manual labor on a big tobacco hacienda. his father was some what of a ladies man, and slept around. his father never married his mother and he was a bastard. his father did hwoever support the family, and he and his mother lived in the same room his father did on the hacianda. he was raised on the hacianda. by the time he was ten he was working in the fields helping his mother. his father had other children with different wives, but it was never that big of a deal. sometimes his various wives would get jelous but the father always put his foot down and settled the arguement. in his own small way he was a very socieally potent man. not educated, superstitious, yet clever and able. he never hadthe oppertunity to move past his station, but he showed his skill in his social life. everyone liked him and respected him. and he operated as somewhat of a middle man in labor contracts between the workers and the owner of the hacienda. he also took a lot of time to raise his childrem. he had three sons and one daughter.
his mother made him attend church. she was known in the village as somewhat of a wise woman. she could speak to the dead and often had visions of the virgin mary. when somethign bad happened she would blame the devil or the conjure men who lived in the swamp outside of town. rinadlo would often go viset the conjure men and listen to them tell stories and talk about their gods. his mom ofcoarse hated this and would always poor holy water on him in order to discourage him from going. she would accuse them of being Diableros and having the power to turn into snakes or wolves.. but that made them even more apealing to a young rinadlo. when he was a teenager he would often do chores for the conjure men and they would pay him in herbs or medacine designed to make him stronger. it tasted a lot like blood. and it made him a force to be reckoned with.
all the kids would pick him for soccer games from then on.
after a few years of doing chores for the conjure men, he entered into business with them. he was ghouled yes, but he never met the cianite whos blood he had been drinking. it was a gift, and he had never felt the blood bonde as he had never met his domintor. always the blood would be given to him as payment for his services by another ghoul who had storage of the stuff. so his motivation for entering into business with these men was not because of the blood bond, but out of mutual conveniance.
the conjure seemed like recluse hermits practicing sorcery in the swamp. and this was mostly true, but they knew powerful men. powerful men who needed help shipping drugs to america from columbia and other places. rinaldo would make sure that all shipments were catalogued and weighed correctly, and that the buyer paid appropriatly. if a problem ever arose he would report it and the conjure men would handle it.
rinaldo over years at this station grew more and more compitant and infuencial in what amounted to working for a setite cartel. the conjure men had other plans forrinaldo. they explained to him that magic was in his soul, inherited from his mother, and that he was wasting his time seeking wealth in the cartels. they offered him apprenticeship, and power and knowledge. a chance to forge his own destiny as few sould can. to break away from the snares of the demon gods who controlled the minds of people. he accepted, considering the force of presence and how perfectly expressed his sire to be asked him
embrace: it's a celibration.
the embrace night had to be careful. his sire had apperently been planning this for weeks. he had to strip naked, lay in a circle of shakl, and hold two poisonous corbas in his hand while his sire chanted and meditated over him. then he had to drink some special blood mixture that smelled putrid.. and containted cobra venom.
he started to die... and his sire danced and banged on a drum over him while his life slipped away... and then he descended on him, drank oh his blood and then embraced him. but the night wasn;t over yet.
after the embrace he still felt sick and dizzy. his sire made him perform his first ritual. talked him through and helped him through it. to cleanse the poison from his veins. the purty of flesh ritual. the cobra venom was extracted. if not his embrace would have left him somewhat lame and inept. but because he had the power of concentration he had beaten the venom. his mind, explained his sire, had just cured him of deadly poison.
the night continued. rinadlo has to feast on the blood of bats and snakes, to cleanse hiis blood and tune him into the spirits. then his sire made him dig a grave and lay in it, and he burried rinaldo in it.
he spent three days in the whole, and eventuaklly had clawwed his way out, where his sire was waiting for him with more some friends... they beat the fuck out of him, and then dragged gim by his hair to his first vaulderie.
his pack, made up of a motley crew called the Crusaders of San Dominingo.
Sire/Pack Preist: Rogerio Nogeura: a Setite blood sorcerer, not exactly an expert but compitant in his magic. he is sort of a reculse who most cainites in the area are afriad of as he is considered a witch doctor.
Ductus: Antonio Silva: a rough neck lasombra who is too close to the ebast for comfort, but can back up his bully bully attitude with his physical might.
Miguel: a crazy gangrel indian from the andes who probably took a lot of hallucenagenic drugs when he was a mortal. not known for moderation.
Ricardo Esponalas: a shrewd and cunning lasombra who is not seen with the pack much publically. he certainly is a wealthy cainite though and has more then his share of drug trafficing to his name.
Willy: a mysterious malkavian who never says anything and carries around a big knife. he always looks like he hasn't bathed and has blood stains all over his clothes.
this motley crew was very active in the carribean and in new orleans. killing setites, even when ordered not too, killing lots of people. running from camarilla scourgaes, head hunting camarilla, getting on the badside of a tzimisce bishop in pensecola and having to get the fuck out. ect..
in the early 90s rinaldo spent merely tagging along and learning blood magic on the side. he had a clever balance of seclustered schooling with his sire in hut near a swamp and active socail mayham with other members of his pack. he lived this lifestyle up intill the invasion of geargia by the sabbat in 99.
it was a bit of a fallout... the pack was ordered into the ranks of sabbat forces. everyone eagerly went.. and rinaldo had no choice in tagging along.. but his sire, the pack priest, took rinaldo and went into hiding. refusing to "throw his life away for some bombaclut bishop." they went underground, and ended up back in new orleans. the whole rest of the pack had met final death in the end.. loyal fools.
in later years they had resurphased, but not in the sabbat community. they now hung around the greater cainite society... merely soecially. going to clubs, hanging out with other conjure man... his sire seemd to meet a lot with nosferatu looking Hogoun men who practiced strong magic and could speak to the dead. as a weaker sorcerer, rinaldo was often left out of these talks and exchanges. and as time went on he saw less and less of his sire. untill one day he wasn't able to find him anymore.
he was ok though, he knew knew how to take care of himself better then most kindred his age. he was a Conjure Man.
Theory and Practice:
who should he be loyal too? the sabbat are a bunch of fools who worship the big caine man. no ones seen him for hundreds of years and no one will again. you say you are christian but all you do is kill and sin all you like. no, i will not be loyal to you who mock my church.
the camarilla? they give you everything you want for free. you tell the prince you will listen to his rules and he lets you do what you like. he has no idea how useful you could be to him, so he ignores you as some eccentric setite. but it would be bad if the sabbat got a hold of you.
setites? some of them are good licks. but a lot of them are ass holes. they arn't even organised enough for you to sondier joining, as many are as displaced as you. as far as you know at least. some speak of temples and an all powerful dark god. no no, st. michael could easily beat this upstart god of theirs.
so you peddle drugs here and there, spend your time trying to figure out what your going to do. every now and then you come across another conjure man, who makes for good company. you hang out with other setite neonates, and go to clubs. licks are a lot different in america. they are less violent but they are prone to blasphamy. you make sure you go to mass every sunday, for nightly services to ask mother mary for forgiveness.
your haven is like a santarian shrine. hackneyed lamps depicting the modonna, lots of seven day candles, rsaries, statuesm incence. you also have a lot of sinister looking ritual components, but if you have a guest over you refuse to talk about it. if he cannot understand what it is then it's useless trying to explain it to him. a conjure man will know.